Singer Salvage Yard
by yellowlabluvr
Summary: What happens to the cars when they get pushed too far? Where do they go? They go to the great garage in the sky, Singer Salvage Yard. There, they get to find rest and peace and get taken care of.


Singer Salvage Yard

The day was bright and clear. It was perfect, actually. Every day was like that here. The sun was always perfect and it never rained. Rain would ruin the paint. But that never happened here. This was a place of rest. This was where the weary came to let go of their burdens. This is where they found peace after a lifetime of chaos. They were lined up in rows, each clean and perfect. Cars, bikes, motorcycles, even a few spaceships littered the landscape. Each one had its own story, its own scars. None of that mattered here. Scratches were buffed, frames rebuilt, and dents removed. This was the final resting place for many a beloved vehicle. Over there was Blueberry. She'd been through a lot in her time. That final day and then the crash that brought her here… It had been rough. But she'd gotten the care she needed. At the end of the row she rested in was a small building that looked like it might fall over at any moment. A wooden sign on the front had hand-carved letters on it that read: "Dr. Badass is in". He always knew when a new one pulled in. With a gentle, understanding hand, he welcomed them to their new home. He would begin work on the interior, putting it back in its former glory while the only other human resident would begin on the mechanics. Bobby Singer had a hard time welcoming newbies, but he loved helping them look their best.

A few rows down from Blueberry was a special place. That was reserved for family. If Bobby was expected to run this salvage rest yard, he would run it as he saw fit.

At the beginning of the row was a large black truck. It never got a name, but Ash had taken to calling it Beast. It hadn't had an abrupt ending, like most of the occupants. It had simply faded from memory and ended up here. When the driver was retired, it had no other purpose. So, here it sat, among family.

Next to Beast was Bobby's own 1971 Chevelle. She was here for the same reason Beast was. Her driver was taken and she got parked. She had no more passengers to watch over. The boys looked at her every once and a while, but she didn't get any attention. It hurt them too much. So, she'd rolled out quietly and come to join her family up here. The only name he could bear to give her was Karen. Calling to her always brought tears to his eyes. But it was the only name she was worthy of.

Beside Karen was Baby. Dean's Baby. Sure, it had been John's car first, but he never loved it the way Dean did. It was as much a part of that family as anything. She'd seen them through so much. How many times had she been parked in Bobby's yard getting worked on after some ghost had messed with her? The wreck that had brought her here was a nasty one. Hit by a semi at full speed. She just couldn't recover from it. Baby had retired before Bobby or Ash had begun taking care of things, so she'd sat for a long time, damaged. But when Ash arrived, he began cleaning her up immediately. He couldn't just leave her looking like that. And then Bobby had let go and come here too. It was the best way he knew of to feel close to the boys while they kept fighting. There was another spot next to her, waiting. A time would come when Baby would get hurt and never recover. When that happened, they were ready for her.

Behind the row of family, sat a few with interesting stories. The Nerd Hearder had been a funny one to fix, all plastic and electronics. Ash had done most of the work on that one. She'd been riddled with bullet holes and scrapes. The Crown Victoria beside her had been… fun. She was full of guns and explosives when she'd arrived. Bobby had laughed heartily at that. Her driver might not have been a hunter, but he knew his guns.

Hundreds of other cars, in every color imaginable (and some too hard to imagine), covered the perfectly green grass. They were comfortable here. It would never grow so much that it would cover anything, it just served as padding. They'd lived their lives on pavement and dirt, tirelessly fighting the good fight. They got their passengers to safety sometimes and danger all the time. It was the reason they'd been built.

Off in the distance was a row of things that didn't quite fit. Well, they didn't look like they fit in with all the cars, but they did. More than anyone else, they deserved rest. They all looked the same, but somehow different. All the same color blue, all the same light at the top, all the same name. T.A.R.D.I.S. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. It was the favorite of the Doctor. There were few, if any, in this place that had suffered as much as she. Traveling through space and time was never easy, even for a box with a soul. But she did it, every time, without fail. She always knew where she was needed, even if her 'driver' didn't. There were several empty spots in her section. Her soul lived on in another incarnation of her box, but someday, she wouldn't be able to continue on. When that day came, her place would be ready. With each remodel she went through, a piece of her soul stayed behind. Eventually, there wouldn't be enough of her left to power a new box, so she would drift here to find rest. The very last of her kind and still determined to save the universe. She held a place of honor here.

While Bobby and Ash are the only two humans who lingered here, there was a spirit that drifted through. She could be seen walking by the TARDIS's, her hand drifting across the doors. Sometimes, it almost sounded like they spoke to her. She always looked so sad when she gazed upon the blue boxes. But her favorite thing to do was tell stories. She visited each and every vehicle in the whole yard and told them different stories about different things. Aliens and monsters, the bearded lady, the moons and planets she'd saved, the times she'd been taken captive. She wanted to be sure they never felt alone. And so it and become her job to keep them company. It was nice with her there. Oddly, her crazy stories brought a sense of humanity to this place.

As another car rolled into the lot, broken and leaking, Ash threw his door open.

"Bobbay!" he would call, adjusting the sleeveless plaid shirt he wore. "We've got incoming!"

Bobby would emerge from under some car in the incoming lot and head over to welcome the newcomer. Every family member deserved to be welcomed with love in the Singer Salvage Yard.


End file.
